


Magical Creatures

by letterstonorah



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 17:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2476235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letterstonorah/pseuds/letterstonorah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luna and Hermione's early post-Hogwarts years</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magical Creatures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flipflop_diva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/gifts).



> I wanted to do so much more for you but it's been ages since I've written Harry Potter fic, and I let myself get intimidated by the breadth of the canon. I hope you enjoy anyway and best wishes.

Luna is in Wales near St. Winifred's Well, bum bag on her waist, brochure in hand. 

Wind blows from the west, and she wishes she'd worn her hair in a plait. As is, the lose strands tangle and knot with abandon. 

"Ms? Can I help you find something?" a passing man asks. 

"I'm fine," says Luna.

She is. She knows exactly where she is and exactly why she's there. She's chasing a legend.

St. Winifred--St. Winefride in Welsh rendering--spurned a suitor and paid the ultimate price. He decapitated her, and by the power of God or prayer--or as Luna believed--a witch--a healing well emerged where Winifred's severed head rolled. 

Luna feels the magic thick and heady in the air as she roams St. Winefride's Chapel. Years ago, someone charmed the stones, and the power has yet to wear. 

The water in the well is touched by a witch's hand, too. It tingles, and it's no wonder to Luna that pilgrims have experienced healing after a single drink. Wand tucked behind her ear, she crosses a stream, then wanders toward low-peaked hills. She looks out upon the vast countryside before her and removes the letter from the back pocket of her purple corduroys, the one from Hermione.

_Luna,_

_I've been taking a magical zoology class at University of St. Gustafus this term, and I discovered a creature in my reading that might interest you. Largely believed extinct, the snarfwal is a winged creature related to the unicorn, native to Wales. I know that you're working on a magical animal field guide for the southwest region of the Isle. Do you recall learning about the great witch Winifred in our magical history course at Hogwarts? She is said to have had a snarfwal and that is where she got her powers of resurrection._

_It's possible you've already heard of it, but I read the back issues of the Quibbler and saw no mention. Anyway, sorry to write out of the blue like this. I just saw its picture and thought of you for some reason._

_Cheers,_

_Hermione_

Luna plans to backpack the wet, dense hill country until she tracks the _snarfwal_ down. She reckons she must trek from the coast of the Irish Sea to the grassy mountains of Snowdonia at least.

_#_

Hermione gets a notice that there's post waiting for her.

"Sign here," says a woman with pink plastic-rimmed glasses.

Hermione signs then takes the letter waiting for her. She reads it as soon as she completes the walk back to her flat a few kilometres from campus.

_Hermione,_

_After sixteen days in Wales I am afraid to say that I found no sign of the snarfwal. However, I met an old woman who tells me the lot of them migrated northward when she was a girl for fear of tourists at St. Winifred's Well, so I am off now to Scotland. St. Gustafus is there, yeah? Not far from Hogwarts? I could visit if you'd like and show you some of the photos and notes I've collected. Do you already have plans for midterm break?_

_Oh!_

_I know your birthday was a month ago—it's in September isn't it?—but here is a gift anyway. It's a feather from a worshboggle. They are rare but an ingredient in some potions you might be interested in. Refer to the 1994 issues of the Quibbler if you require more information on proper usage._

_Is it a strange thing to say I miss you? I never had many mates but I find myself longing for the few I made at Hogwarts now that I am always off on my own. We are mates, aren't we?_

_Luna Lovegood_

_P.S. Nargles are in peak season in the late Autumn so I advise you keep close watch of you things!_

Hermione smiles, puts the letter aside and removes her textbook to begin studying for the exam she must take in three days.

She'd planned to visit the Weasleys during her holidays this year, but the breaks are long enough that she can visit them and then perhaps meet up with Luna separately.

"Hermione?" her flatmate calls.

"Mm?"

"I'm gonna have someone over, is that cool with you?"

"Yeah, I'm going out, anyway," says Hermione. There's a pub around the way that's quiet enough Wednesday nights. She'll have curry and butterbeer whilst she studies. Her course is in Magike, or, Art of the Magi, the underlying science of witchcraft and wizardy. Because Hogwarts offered no science classes, she's spent the better part of a gap year teaching herself physics, chemistry, biology, and maths. Still, keeping up with her classwork is challenging. Worth it, but challenging. 

She pulls on pea coat and heads out to the pub, that letter still in her pocket. It won't hurt if she reads it one or two more times, just when she needs a break from studying. 

On her way, she sees that Bixleby Books is still open and goes inside and browses the shelves, knapsack heavy on her back. She's in the biology section when she sees it behind the glass case, the perfect, perfect, perfect gift for Luna. It's 200 quid, a bit more gold than Hermione has to her name, but she buys it on credit. It'll mean picking up extra shifts at the library these next few months, but she enjoys working there. 

A gift between mates, that's all. 

"G'night," says the shopkeeper as Hermione walks out.

She nods her head, pulls a hat over bushy strands of hair and re-enters the cold of Scotland in late fall.

#

Luna's at the Burrow.

She watches George, Ron, and Ginny play Quidditch in the yard.

"Luna, dear, is pot roast all right for tea?" Mrs. Weasley asks. 

Luna nods. She loves pot roast if her memories from  Hogwarts serve her correct. Her father has never been such a great a cook and neither was her mother when she was a live. They survived on instant, frozen dinners, the type that heated with a simple spell. 

The air smells wet outside. Luna thinks it will rain soon. Sunday roast and a hot drink whilst surrounded by people she loves, Luna can think of few things better. She misses her father. Right now, she misses her mum, as well. She misses Hermione. Sometimes--and only sometimes--she misses Hogwarts. Students were often unkind, but in all her travels, she has never found a place more magical. She's glad to be at the Burrow, which feels something like home. 

"Luna," calls Ginny as she lands on her broom, boots caking with mud as she runs through the grass.

They hug, and water starts to fall from the sky. Of all the Weasleys, it's Ginny who Luna knows best. They'd been in the same year. Luna wonders if the relationship between them is what it would be like to have a sister. 

"Come on, we can hang out in my room before dinner," Ginny says as they hug. Luna squeezes Ginny tightly, probably too tightly. They stay like that for a while before heading upstairs.

"You can sleep on the bed tonight. I'm going to fix a pallet on the floor," says Ginny.

Luna unpacks her bag, mostly jumpers and leggings, the book from Hermione.

"I like sleeping on the floor, actually," says Luna. "Nargles prefer higher ground."

Ginny smiles then says, "No worries." She sits down onto the thin mattress of her bed, kicks off her boots and takes off her Quidditch gear. Her broom leans up against the dresser, a model Luna hasn't seen before. Ginny is playing amateurs now but word in the Prophet is that it won't be long until she's ready for professionals. "What's that?" Ginny says, removing her socks and tossing them toward the hamper.

"What's what?" Luna asks as she unpacks the last of her things.

" _That."_ Ginny points to the small box Luna's just removed from the bag. "Is that—you know— _it?_ "

Luna feels her cheeks warm as she nods her head. "It's just a book," she says, and her already high-pitched voice seems to go up an octave as she speaks.

"May I see it?" asks Ginny, and she bounces excitedly on the bed.

Luna hands Ginny the box, and Ginny opens it, removing the tissue-wrapped book inside.

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._

Published in 1927, a first edition copy and signed by New Scamander.

The pages are tanned with age, and there's a small nick in the leather of the spine, but otherwise it is in perfect condition.

Hermione's letter is bookmarking one of the pages.

"Please, please, _please,_ let me read the letter," says Ginny. "I know you told me everything, but I have to see it for myself."

Her cheeks grow even hotter with a rush of blood but she nods yes.

Outside, rain begins to fall. Ginny reads the letter out loud, her voice quiet against the heaviness of the storm.

 _Luna,_ Ginny reads.

_Of course we're mates._

_I apologise if anything about our interactions made you think otherwise. I can be a bit…tempestuous. You wouldn't be the first I put off, if I did, indeed, put you off._

_Thank you for the feather. I don't think I'll find much use for it in the potions you mentioned, but I read that ancient magi believed the feathers good luck, so I've started carrying it with me._

_Speaking of. I hope it's not too much, but I saw the book for a decent price and who else could I give it to but you? Do you like it?_

_I will be at the Burrow most of breaks. Will you be there, as well? You can also come to stay in my flat if you'd like. It's small, but there's enough room for one more, I think._

_I miss you, too. I really do._

_Hermione_

Ginny is smiling widely when she folds the letter back into the envelope.

"I don't know what it means," says Luna.

"Well _I_ do," Ginny tells her. 

Mrs. Weasley calls them down for tea, but Luna hopes she gets to talk to Ginny more before Hermione arrives tonight.

The roast is delicious, as are the mashed peas and the rolls served with it. Dessert is pumpkin custard and ginger snaps. Harry arrives shortly after they eat, and Molly fixes him a plate to eat in the living room as they all chat each other up.

It's good to see Harry. She thinks sometimes he is her closest friend. He introduced her to phones and they talk at least once a week.

Luna watches the clock as the hours tick by. 10:30. 11:30. Still nor Hermione. 

Ginny keeps trying to make eye contact, but Luna is too busy listening to the storm. She wants to go outside and drink the sky water. When it storms this hard, if you squint, you can see rainflies, their wings the same colour as rainbows. They grant wishes. They'd grant Luna _Hermione_.

Ron goes to kip first--says to wake him when Hermione comes. 

Next off is George.

It's not until 1 in the morning that Hermione arrives, wet from the storm. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," she says after taking off her muddy oxfords. "Everything that could go wrong went wrong," she says. "A floo disaster. Then a missed train. Please forgive my lateness and keeping you all up." 

"Nonsense, child," says Mrs. Weasley. "We're just glad you got here safe."

Everyone hugs and exchange greetings. Somehow, Luna misses out on all the festive embracing, nervous now and off to the side of the foyer. Hermione's eyes glance at her then away.

"Are you hungry? There's still plenty of food left," says Molly.

"No thank you. Most of all I'd just like to collapse into bed."

That makes all of them. Hermione and Luna are in Ginny's room, and Harry is with Ron. The stairs creak and moan as they all head upstairs at once, and the sound is one of the most comforting things Luna has ever heard. She realises, quite unexpectedly, that she's been holding her breath, and when Hermione's hand brushes against hers in the stairwell, she exhales. It feels a bit like that first time one casts a successful spell. A fuse in the chest. 

"I'm going to go brush my teeth," says Ginny, leaving Hermione and Luna alone in her bedroom.

Ginny brushed her teeth about an hour ago, as well, and Luna supposes she just has very excellent hygiene. 

"I'm soaked," says Hermione, taking off her jumper and the plaid button-up beneath, leaving on only a thin white t-shirt. Her trousers come off next.

"It's quite the storm out there," says Luna, trying to make acceptable conversation. It's hard to talk to Hermione like this, when they're so close to each other and breathing the same air. She wishes it was appropriate to write a letter to someone standing right next to you.

"Come on, sit down," says Hermione. The rain has weighed down her frizzy hair, for once laying it smooth.

"Are you going to sleep with me?" Luna asks, then blinks her eyes shut for several seconds because that's _not_ what she meant to say. "On the floor, I mean?"

Hermione pulls on a pair of flannel PJ bottoms. "If it's all right with you."

Luna nods. "It is."

"Fewer nargles, right?" says Hermione.

Luna smiles. "Right."

They lay on the pallet and pull the blankets over themselves. Hermione's feet are ice blocks.

Ginny comes back from brushing her teeth and turns off the light.

"Night, you two," she says. "See you in the morning."

Hermione kisses Luna on the cheek good night, and Luna feels her skin buzz until she falls asleep.

#

Their first time is strange and right.

It's in Hermione's flat. She's in her third year, a week from graduating university, and Luna is staying with her for the festivities.

They go out all night and drink butterbeer, and Hermione gets in a very heated debate with a first-year boy studying potions at St. Gustafus about extending certain rights to giants and other non-human magical creatures. Luna gets involved, too. "We make things invisible when we don't treat them them as we should," she says. "That's why no one can see half the creatures that exist out there. You have to believe in them and their worth or they disappear. Imagine a world with no house elves, no giants, no goblins, no unicorns." 

They return at 3 to Hermione's place.

Luna drags her finger along a vase of flowers in the windowsill. "Pretty," she says. 

"Hm?" 

"The flowers," Luna clarifies. "They're very pretty." 

Hermione nods and removes the cardigan she's got on, tosses it on to her desk chair then goes into her bedroom. She unmakes the bed, pulling back the thick quilt and sheet, fluffing the two pillows. "I claim left side," says Hermione and races to her spot. 

Luna's never had much preference for one side or the other and crawls into the right next to Hermione.

Lights off, they lie there silently for several minutes, each aware that the other is awake. They both have memorised the sounds of each other's awake-breathing and sleep-breathing.

"Hermione?" Luna finally asks. She wishes she could make her voice louder but she can't. 

"Yes?" says Hermione with a yawn. She turns to face Luna, hair a wavy mess. White light from a street lamp outside shines through the window and paints her face in perfect detail.

"What are we to each other?" Luna asks. "I don't always understand," Luna starts, but doesn't know how to finish, "I don't always understand what's right in front of me, or I think I understand it, and find out everyone else understands it completely differently than I do." 

Hermione says nothing but reaches out to grab Luna's hand under the covers. 

"We're. I don't know," says Hermione after some time. " We're us. I don't know. I wish I understood it," says Hermione.

"I feel differently about you than about how I feel about Harry or Ron or Ginny or Neville." 

Hermione nods then pauses to find her words. "When I look at Harry or Ron or Ginny or Neville, I'm not usually thinking about how beautiful I find them." 

Luna inhales far too loudly.

"Is it wrong of me to say that?" says Hermione. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I don't want to discomfit you."

"I'm not discomfited," says Luna. "I just--what can be between us? You're here and thinking about pursuing a doctorate. I'm anywhere  _but_ here usually." 

It reminds Luna of their time together at Hogwarts. In different years, only connecting through Harry. Ships in the night.

"How long have you felt this way?" Hermione asks.

"I don't know." 

"I think I've known for sometime," says Hermione. "I just thought it was something else. Fascination. Curiosity." 

"I am a curious creature," Luna says, and she looks off to the clock hanging on the wall. It's near 4. 

They've done little more with each other than trade brief kisses and write increasingly passionate letters to each other, harder and harder to pass off as words between mates.

"I just want to be with you," says Hermione with all the force of someone who knows and has always known exactly what she wants. 

"I know. Me, too." 

Hermione takes the hand of Luna's she's holding and brings it to her lips, kissing each knuckle. That is how it starts. Kisses to the hand. To the wrist. 

A lick on a collar bone. A light bite against the pulse point on the neck. Pecks to the cheeks, eyelids, foreheads, jawbone, chin, and finally, to the lips. Closemouthed, gentle, one after the other after the other after the other.

It's Luna who takes it further, her tongue, just the tip of it, grazing the crease between Hermione's lips.

They both make a sound in the back of their throat at the feel of it. 

Luna has always loved beautiful creatures. It's why she does what she does. She's shaking from nerves, but all she wants is to get closer to Hermione. They press their bodies close, still clothed, fingers clasped, and it is such a comfort to Luna to know that by Hermione she is cherished.


End file.
